Hellfire's Girl
by 1WickedGirl
Summary: A witch on the Hellmouth? Not so unusual, but wait till you see why she's here!
1. Chapter 1

Title: Hellfire's girl

Disclaimer: None of BtVS is mine, I don't make any profit from this.

A/N: This is the first fanfic story I've ever posted, so if you like what you read please r/r so I know to continue this fic. Big thank you to beta Spike's-baby-gurl. Now enjoy!

Chapter 1. Beyond The Burning Time

_Early October, 1519_

"Witch!" They called out. The fire from their makeshift torches caught in the balmy breeze, swirling the heated flames around causing them to lick at the hems of her skirt.

"Devil's child." They hissed. The unruly crowd was pumped, their bodies humming with adrenalin, yet also sweating in fear. Up above, the purple tinted clouds in the blood-red orange sky created an ominous backdrop for its wayward inhabitants.

As the ravenous crowd approached, the frightened girl ran for her life. The tight muscles in her legs ached, as her bruised bare feet sped over the cold, jagged rocks. "Witch!" The crowd drew closer as they spat out her crime. Another gust of wind whipped thick flame red curls in her face, and she was momentarily blinded. This moment of weakness is what allowed Isaac Abbott to grab her. His body odor wafted up her nose as his arms squeezed her thin body tightly to his chest. He stank of sweat, grease, and cheap soap. A calloused hand hand pressed firmly against her mouth, smashing against her teeth.

"I got the witch!" He cried out triumphantly. The young woman squirmed and writhed, biting down on the man's hand. The villagers came forward easily, now unafraid as the witch was caught. "Beat her." Cried out one. "No we must burn her!" Yelled another. They paused for a moment, before murmuring in agreement. The witch had to be destroyed. They proceeded towards the ready stake, determined to release themselves from the witch's presence and influence.

They dragged the girl through the village, stopping at the center of the town. There in the spot only hours ago women had shopped for their groceries, and children had played in the dirty streets, was a large bundle of kindling poorly strewn together. Obviously done hurriedly so. For the twine was already pulling madly apart, like the insides of an overripe melon ready to burst free from its fleshy prison. In the center of the stockpile was, the stake a single up-righted aged wood log. Someone brought forth the ropes.

"Burn the witch! Let the devil be brought forth from this unholy vessel and be relinquished into the burning flames! May the cries of the burning flesh annihilate the creature within and thrust it back forth into oblivion!" Reverend Lewis threw up his hands and cried.

They brought her forward. Men had sharped pitchforks, knives and pikes. They beat her raw, while howling for justice. Pounding their painful weapons against her pale flesh till the shredded cheap wool oozed dark red. A man in a tall hat grabbed her limp, bloody body and with eager assistance tied her to the pole.

"Spawn of Devil. Vile creature of darkness. Witch!" The crowd hurled their insults, while rowdy children threw pocket sized stones. A well aimed jagged rock gazed her forehead and the assailant cheered in triumph as a trickle of blood began to run down her face.

Two men stepped forward. John Hobbs and Ezekiel Dawson. Torches in hand, they held their arms high for the mob to see. "The devil shall not claim our kin!" Roared Hobbs, stepping forward. The crowd swayed and groaned frantically, pumped and excited on a natural high.

Dawson and Hobbs stood side by side in front of the spectacle. "May He have mercy on your soul!" Hissed Dawson. As the two men bent down in unison. Suddenly they froze.

"What are you waiting for?" A bald, angry red faced man cried out. "Burn her."

As if paralyzed by an unseen force the two men neither moved nor blinked. The girl's head, which before had been hanging limply, now shot up with a renewed strength. Blood ran down her face from an open head wound and trickled into her mouth as she smiled. Her teeth stained with red liquid. She spoke.

"I think not." An unseen force hurled the crowd back, leaving the group distraught, twisted and bent, like rag dolls on their backs. Invisible hands began to pull and twist freeing the bound girl of her shackles.

Jumping from the wooden grave, she paced though the crowd. Too disoriented to stand, the villagers simply stared open mouthed at her.

"So you wish for fire, for me to burn." Her slanted green eyes narrowed and darted around, evaluating her captors. "Well since you seem to enjoy playing with fire I think this shall be a fitting punishment."

She raised her arms to the sky and began chanting in a mixture of tongue twisting languages too difficult for the simple addled townspeople to decipher. Another flick and bursting red flames engulfed the town. "Let them burn!" She cried. And with a last whispered sentence she disappeared with a shattering bang. The townspeople stared at the empty space in horror as all around them their houses, church, and small schoolhouse were fed to the hungry flames. Leaving nothing behind but charred piles of ash.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2. Leafy Goodness

Present day Sunnydale- late October

A cool breeze rustled a stray pile of browning leaves as two figures marched up Main street. "Ahh! Fresh Autumny goodness." The small redhead remarked to her taller, dark haired companion, bending down to examine the foliage. She picked up yellow maple leaf, gently twirling it between her finger tips.

"Much with the twirling leafy goodness today, huh Wills." Xander Harris grinned at his longtime best friend Willow Rosenberg. "So bronze tonight? Yea or nay?" He kicked a crumpled coke can lying on the sidewalk.

"I'm busy tonight." She frowned as the cold, sticky liquid splattered the ends of her skirt. _'That's gonna stain.'_ Willow though unhappily. "Xander." She gave him a disproving look that would've made any mother proud.

"Whoops. Sorry 'bout that Wills." He gave her his best boyish grin, knowing she would forgive him. "I'm sure you can just wash that out later." Unconcerned Xander simply changed the subject. "So why can't we meet up tonight? Anya's going to be there."

"All the more reason not to show up." She muttered under her breath.

"What was that?" Xander asked, not paying much attention as he was focused on the donut shop across the street.

"I said I'm sorry I can't make it. My history paper on the Indian Removal Act is due Friday and so far I've only got the first eight pages. I haven't even gotten to Muscogee's yet!" Willow sighed heavily. She could believe how lazy she'd been: ignoring her paper till practically the last minute.

"Those damn Muscogee's." Xander joked, giving his friend a nudge.

"Funny." She smiled flatly as they turned the street corner, closing in on the Magic Box.

Xander frowned, confused. Was he losing his witty charm and playful quipyness? He'd have to ask Anya.

They reached the shop. "After you." The bell jingled as Xander held open the door. "Hey G-man!" He called out. "How goes business?"

"Xander please don't shout in the store when there are customers." From behind a table displaying a basket of sharped stakes, and a sign bearing a smiling blonde girl with a speech bubble coming out of her mouth that said. _'I know how to protect myself at night, you can too! Read how!'_ A red arrow pointed to a small pile of pamphlets. (While most customers blindly chose to ignored this, the more discerning customers often took the pamphlets with relief, shoving many of the stakes into their bags.) Rupert Giles gestured to the startled patrons who'd given small jumps in fright at the sound of Xander's booming voice.

"Yes Xander." Anya strode over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Your loud and forceful voice, while very sexy and masculine, might discourage the customers from buying things, thus depriving us of their money." She shook her head as her eyes widened at the thought of separation between her and the precious cash. Willow snorted.

"Don't worry Ahn." He gave her an affectionate squeeze. "Your money's safe."

Anya gave a quick nod. Scanning the room, she trod over to an elderly lady holding a red pillar candle in one hand and a plastic bag filled with dried crushed rose petals in the other. "Can I help you find something?" Anya smiled kindly at the woman.

"Oh thank you dear." The women held up the goods for her to see. "I'm looking for something special. I'm having a bit of trouble at home you see." She lowered her voice. "With my husband. He never wants to-" She made a gestured. "You know, anymore."

Anya grinned, speaking loudly. "Oh you mean have sex? Don't worry I can help you with that." She pulled her over towards a mildly cluttered display of various sized crystals. Taking the items from her frail hands she began telling the women about the different types of spells and blessed charms the women could try using to spice up her sex life. Twenty minutes later the satisfied customer left beaming, a large paper bag in her hands filled with her new claims.

Anya turned back to the others, fanning herself with a small wad of cash. "Look! I've made yet another profitable transaction using knowledge from my vengeance demon days and my own personal sexual experiences!" She looked proudly towards the front door. "I told her the about this one time, there was this women in peru and her husband had a mistress who liked to-"

"Yes congratulation on your sale." Giles interrupted, sputtering, as he pulled a cloth out of his pocket and began to polish his glasses furiously.

Cash still in hand, Anya skipped over to her boyfriend. Throwing his arm around her she announced. "My most recent profit is making me feel very libidinous." She turned to Xander expectantly. "I would like to try the thing I was telling you about this morning. You know with the scarf and the ice cubes in your- ."

"O.k. Anya!" He pressed a hand over her mouth, but whispered something in her ear that sounded somewhat naughty.

Instantly she perked back up. "Ooh Xander!" Anya whispered back excitedly as his eyes began to sparkle.

The couple turned and descended towards the basement. "Anya needs to tell me something important." Xander said. She nodded adamantly. "Yup really important. For about ten-" Fifteen!" She hissed. "Yeah fifteen minutes- we'll be right back." She grabbed his hand yanking him to her towards the back, after lovingly laying the wad of cash onto the counter. (What happened to the money she was holding?) Disappearing down the steps, her disembodied voice called out. "I don't actually have anything to say- were just going to have wild, rampant sex on top of the old sarcophagus." Xander's muffled voiced muttered something indistinguishable. "What? Why can't I tell them-" Their voices cut off.

Willow rolled her eyes. Turning to a red faced flustered Giles she asked. "So where's Buffy?"


	3. Chapter 3

N/A: Hope your enjoying the story so far! Again big thank you to beta Spike's-baby-gurl.

Disclaimer: BtVS is not mine!

"Ahhhh." Buffy Summers moaned underneath her covers.

She was supposed to meet the others at the Magic Box two hours ago but really, why bother? In fact, why bother even getting out of bed, showering, dressing, putting on makeup, eating breakfast and going outside? She'd just go to bed later and have to wake up and have to do it all over again tomorrow.

She pressed her face into a pillow, which was warm from ger layabout body and smelled slightly of artificial lavender from the fabric softener. "Baahhh." She groaned into the pillow, before throwing the covers back over her yummy sushi pajama clad body. She laid there for a while, still as a corpse, which when she thought about it, she technically was.

"Brrring. Brrring. Brrring." The pulsating echoes from the unanswered phone was giving her a migraine. Remaining hidden under her covers, Buffy moved her arm out and waved it around, trying to find the receiver and stop the annoying noise. "Hel- Hello?" She murmured when she finally held the headpiece against her ear.

"Hey Buffy!" An overly cheerful voice exclaimed. "Did you forget that you were supposed to meet us over here, like two hours ago?"

"Wills?" She muttered, wincing slightly at the at the redhead's voice. "That you?" Buffy's voice sounded monotone and almost as artificial as the Buffybot's had been, of course minus the peppy cheerfulness.

"Yes Buffy, it's me." If Willow heard any sort of resentment or anguish in Buffy's voice she chose to ignore it. "How are you feeling? Better?" Last night her friend had been complaining about feeling nauseous and had forgone going to the Bronze with Tara and her, instead choosing to spend the evening pj-clad and curled up in her bed.

"Better." The voice droned softly. "Still feeling a little queasy so I don't think I'm gonna be able to make it."_ 'Why wouldn't they leave her alone?'_

"So are you're not coming?" Willow asked, somewhat annoyed. _'Honestly why was Buffy acting like this? She should be happy that she back! She's amongst her friends instead of rotting away in some dark disgusting hell dimension! But no, she wanted to mope around in her stinking bed, pretending to be sick. Yah she knew Buffy was faking.'_

"No." Buffy answered. The weight of the receiver felt like it weighted a hundred pounds.

"Fine," Willow huffed. "Just don't feel guilty or anything for making us wait."

"Ok. Bye Wills." She said indifferently as she made the small movements necessary to hang up the phone. She was pretty sure Willow was still yammering on about something, but really who cared?

Buffy gave a sniff. No one had suffered like she had suffered! And now the cause of her pain and anguish wanted her to come meet her at the Magic Box to talk? No way! She felt her mouth curve downward as her chin began to quiver. What she really need was a nap- another one. She closed her eyes with a sigh as the darkness filled her, lulling herself back to sleep.

"CRASH." There was a noise downstairs that sounded vaguely like something heavy, and possibly expensive, crashing to the floor. Buffy groaned as she threw off the covers, glancing at her clock to check the time; it read 2:48 pm. _'Damn it.'_ She'd only been sleeping for ten minutes. _'Whoever is_

_knocking around stuff downstairs is about to get the stuffing knocked right out of them.'_ She thought angrily.

She tiptoed downstairs; pretty sure it was nothing of the wiggy and the evil but- _'Oh spoke too soon- Kinda.'_

"Spi- Spike?"

He turned to face her, still clutching a broken lamp to his chest. "Oh, hullo pet." He said cheerfully as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about his presence in her house.

Buffy attempted to look angry. "What the hell are you doing here? Give me that!" She made a grab for the lamp but he stopped her.

"'S broken luv." She gave him an angry look. "But don' worry I know a right nice demon bloke who can fix it up in two shakes."

Buffy groaned, tipping her head to the side as she rubbed her eyes. _'This had to be a dream- Strike that, more like a nightmare.'_

"Spike, get out of here!" She swatted at his arm, still attempting to retrieve the precious lamp.

"Oi! Watch the arm slayer! You break it anymore not sure it'll still be fixable like."

She stared at him in disbelief._ 'What the hell was this thing with him? First he's all grr kill, then his makes with the flaccid chip boy, now he was what? Playing house?'_

"I'm going back to bed. Goodnight Spike!" Buffy said sharply as she turned back towards the stairs.

"Night?" Spike shook his head at her back. "Bloody lazy chit you're turning into 's barely afternoon."

She turned to face him. "Well I was already sleeping and I'm very sick, so if you don't mind I'm gonna try and go get some much needed sleep!"

"Puh." He waved his free arm at her. "Right load of shit and you know it slayer. Don't think just 'cause your mates will except your feeble excuses means I will."

Buffy's eyes narrowed and she tilted her head questionably.

"You're not sick!" He exclaimed. Spike paused for a second moving closer to her, shifting the lamp under his arm. "Well not here." A cold hand was placed on her stomach. "But maybe here." It moved upwards to her head.

She pushed him away. "Screw you!" Buffy shouted as she turned and raced up the stairs, displaying more energy then she had in days. He noticed happily.

Upstairs the bedroom door slammed shut and his vampire hearing picked up a muffled. "Go away Spike!"

He snorted._ 'Ungrateful little bint she was.'_ He thought. _'Too bad you love her.'_ The voice reminded him. Spike glanced at the ceiling. _'Yeah too bad.'_


End file.
